


Thunderous Cacophony

by mercuralia



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuralia/pseuds/mercuralia
Summary: Brainstorm keeps talking to himself and Perceptor doesn't know what to do.





	Thunderous Cacophony

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in 4 years so I did something really small to shake the rust off

It’s impossible to work like this. Brainstorm, as much as a genius as he is, fancies himself some kind of singer or perhaps stand up comedian, with the amount of talking that he does purely alone. Thunderous cacophony, Perceptor called it once, not being one for unnecessary hyperboles and theatrics. The talking, the noise, all that had become standard since he had asked the other engineer to become his lab partner, another change to get used to, besides having to share a space.

It’s loud and it disturbs him, disturbs his peace, wrecks his train of thought. _Start again_ , he thinks. Blocking noise is easy, _it should be easy_ for someone who’s seen half the galaxy through a scope, who learnt to live through war. Preceptor wonders if, maybe, the reason that incessant melody won’t leave him alone is because… he doesn’t want to. It’s preposterous, but if there’s one thing he knows (better than he knows himself, apparently) is how to interpret evidence and formulate a conclusion.

It’s a divisive conclusion.

He works with certainties. Preceptor knows, Preceptor always knows what’s the best course of action. He doesn’t doubt, he doesn’t miss, he gets the job done. That’s not happening now. _It’s nonsensical_ , he thinks. _This impasse is unwarranted_. Yet, it proves to be impossible to reconcile both sides of the discussion in his head. He’s cold, he’s hard-working, he’s efficient. But he’s also… He’s also more than what he allowed himself to be. Has been allowing himself to be, rather. He could be more.

And so he’s selfish. Selfish of him for him. Preceptor wants to work, wants to further science, wants to make up for lost time during the war, all that time he could have been doing what he loved instead of holding a gun. But he also wants… He wants… He wants to stay. _Yes, that’s the word. To stay._ Stay and listen to this background noise and slowly bring it to the foreground. He pretends nothing has changed though. He goes on, with his back turned, pretending to do the things he’s always done, pretending to be in his own space. Instead, he pays attention. He rolls his eyes when Brainstorm brags out loud of his own accomplishments, smiles when he laughs and resists the urge to correct him when the wrongfully concludes an equation.

 _It’s loud_ , he concludes, _but it’s not unpleasant._


End file.
